We recently had some chicks hatch out, about 15, all silkies and silkie mixes. Norman is the last roo standing so they’re all his progeny.
They’re my first chickens hatched by chickens – soooooo much easier than doing it myself.
But still not a perfect system.
Sometimes they pip and still don’t make it. Sometimes they make it out of the shell and die anyway. And sometimes the mama chicken doesn’t seem to care for the baby chick.
Which brings me to today’s fiasco.
I went to feed the chickens and there was a very unhappy newborn (probably a few hours old) getting trampled by a Silkie, shaking, falling over. And I thought it would probably die if I left it there… prognosis was iffy even if I took it inside.
And so Garbanzo is sitting here with me as I type this.
In a paper towel.
In my bra.
As any woman can tell you, that’s one of the warmest places in the world. And it seems to be happy there so it’s probably a rooster…
I think between the warmth, being able to hear my heartbeat, and being nestled into the paper towel like it’s sitting under a hen is working.
Garbanzo seems to have more energy now so I’ll keep him with me until night falls and then try tucking her in under one of the broody hens to see if tomorrow is a better day. My husband gets up early so he can check on things and if Garbanzo needs to come back inside we’ll do that… but entertaining as this is, I’d rather the mamas do their job.
Cute ain’t she? (I told her she better be a hen…) My dogs are fascinated. Daisy went through this once already, but Roscoe is new at it and his curiosity is palpable… he can’t stand not knowing what this creature is but he is behaving very well.